Bethyl Drabbles (Seasons 4 & 5)
by LadyHera
Summary: Just moments that take place after 'Still' and beyond. Includes some simple wishes I have for Beth and Daryl and their growing relationship.
1. Heavier Than She Looks

"We should probably pick up the pace a little. Don't wanna stick around that fire too long. Gonna attract walkers from all around here." Daryl guided Beth downwind and further into the moonlit woods. They could still feel the heat of the burning house on their backs. The smell of burning wood and walker flesh pushing at them through the night air. The night creatures had fled as soon as the first flames had licked the front porch. They needed to do the same.

For close to an hour, they kept a steady, rhythmic pace through the Georgia backwoods until they came to a dirt road and began following its lead. As the minutes stretched toward morning, only the sounds of their panting kept them company. Just as dawn broke, they came upon an abandoned pickup truck. Daryl motioned for Beth to climb into the bed and he followed.

"Get some sleep. I'll keep watch." Daryl could feel the exhaustion from the previous day soaking itself deep into his bones, but he'd let her sleep first.

"You need sleep, too. And food. Eat something, at least. And wake me up in a couple of hours. I'll keep watch for you. No more 'I'm not tired' excuses, Daryl Dixon. You're the walking definition of tired right now." She pushed the backpack they'd found in the country club underneath her head and tried to make herself as comfortable as the body of the truck would allow. It might as well have been concrete, though. Her efforts futile. She sighed against the pain as the aluminum scored itself into her lower back.

Daryl grunted in response. Whether he'd actually do as she said was yet to be seen. She hated that he didn't trust her enough to keep watch. That he wouldn't allow himself to be so physically vulnerable with only her around. That needed changing and fast. He couldn't keep this up and still keep them safe. Tired was far too synonymous with dead these days.

"Later this afternoon, will you teach me how to use your crossbow? And maybe even to track? Like your dad taught you? I could be useful, you know. If you don't mind showing me how." Despite all her discomfort, exhaustion was winning the battle and her eyelids were growing heavier with each passing moment.

He looked at her then. Seeing how small she looked curled up on her side. But he'd been small once, too. Smaller even than her under his daddy's belt. And if that couldn't break him, he shouldn't discount her worth in this new world either.

"That damn bow probably weighs more than you." He saw her smile, like something he'd said was funny.

"Don't you worry. I'm a lot heavier than I look, Mr. Dixon." And finally she was asleep. That smile still on her face.


	2. Easy as Pie

"So you gonna teach me now?" Beth finished packing all their scavenged goods into their backpack and looked up at him hopefully. Big eyes pleading for affirmation.

"Teach you what?" Daryl was preoccupied with cleaning his arrows.

"To use your crossbow. Like you said before I went to sleep?" She moved to stand in front of him, squaring her shoulder for an argument. She knew how protective he was of that crossbow. Knew that he was far more likely to side-eye her and ignore her request.

He gave her a quick glance as he wiped the final bolt down with the old, red rag he kept religiously hanging from his back pocket. "I recall you asking, but don't remember agreeing to any such a thing."

Beth reached out and touched his shoulder. The small gesture startled him and instinct moved him out of her reach immediately. "Please, Daryl. I want to pull my weight, too. Not just be some burden."

She was just so damn earnest. He loaded the bow and handed it over. And at first she didn't move, afraid he was trying to trick her. But when he pushed it at her more forcefully, she grabbed the handle and was shocked at how heavy the weapon was. Daryl watched her pick it up with two hands and aim it directly at his head.

"Whoa, girl. Can't learn nothing from a dead man." He pushed the bow away from his face. Her cheeks pinked under the weight of her mistake.

"Sorry. I guess I've got a long way to go. Am I at least holding it right?" He could see the tremble in her arms as she struggled to keep bow aloft.

"Rest it against your shoulder, like with a shotgun. It'll help balance the weight out until you get a little more muscle on them bones. And you gotta hold it up higher so you can actually see through the damn scope." She felt his fingers gently lift her arms up until she had the crossbow properly leveled at the nearest tree.

He moved behind her, keeping his hands braced under her biceps so she could focus on her aim. She felt his body lightly press against her from behind and heard his next directions whispered closely into her ear, his hot breath dancing across her neck. "Just lineup your target down the scope and pull the trigger. Easy as pie if your target is an old oak tree with nowhere to go."

She did her best to do as he said, but couldn't help be a little surprised at how differently this lesson was going than yesterday's showdown at the moonshine cabin. For a minute she allowed herself a moment to get lost in those differences, in this new softness and patience he was showing her. She couldn't help but smile.

"Ain't you gonna shoot already? This ain't a game, and I don't see much worth smiling about. Aim and pull the trigger already." His words had a whole lot of bark but the bite was gone. Beth kept the grin on her face, closed one eye, aimed as best she could, and shot the arrow at the oak tree - missing wide right. Way wide right.

She dropped the bow and he removed himself from around her. "If that's what you call aiming, I'm gonna have to get you a dictionary." He stalked off in the general direction she had fired the arrow, all the while mumbling about running low on ammo and never letting another living soul touch his bow ever again.

Beth stayed put. Despite her first awful attempt at channeling her inner warrior princess, she kept the smile on her face and waited for him to return. She'd keep practicing and she'd get better. She knew he'd see to that in spite of all his grumbling.

And sure enough, when he reemerged from the forest, he playfully threw the arrow at her and motioned for her to pick the crossbow back up. "Do it again. But this time you're doing the chasing."


	3. Drabble 1

They had found her. They had found her and she was alive and unhurt. And she is smiling at them, at him. Maggie is squeezing the life out of her as the others surround her, all begging their turn. But he stands back and waits. Because he'd wait for her forever which is a thing he now knows that he never knew before. He'll wait for her and she'll have to wait for him because he's so far behind in so many ways.

And then her eyes find his and she breaks away and she's got her arms wrapped around his neck before he can register what has happened. And she's holding on like she never let go. And at first, he doesn't know what to do - has never known what to do. But he decides to hug her back because that seems like something that might make sense. But what he really wants is to pull her inside of him and never let her out again.

He can feel her heart beat against his chest and her hands have worked their way into his hair. His own hands are wondering up her back, wanting to drown themselves in the cascade of her ponytail. But that thought and the stares of everyone else scare him. So instead he just rubs the soft ends of her hair between his fingers - for just a moment. One sweet, delicious moment. And then gently pushes her back towards the rest of her family.

She's home and that's enough for now.


	4. Drabble 2

Wouldn't this be a lovely scene: Daryl's walking Beth home one night while they're at the Alexandria Safe Zone. They've just come from a party or gathering that made Daryl all uncomfortable. And Beth's wearing a beautiful blue dress - something simple she borrowed from another community member. He hasn't been able to keep his eyes off her for months - but especially on this night. They stop and have a little chat on a bench - something sweet and awkward. She stands up and pulls him up beside her, holding his hand as they continue on. And he's clearly flustered and asks, "Where are we going?" Which, of course, he already knows. Walking her home was his idea after all. But she just smiles sweetly, knowingly at him, "You're gonna finish walking me home so you can kiss me goodnight, Daryl Dixon."


	5. Drabble 3

In my head, Beth is with Father Gabriel and she's busy helping him restore his own faith and redeem himself after his cowardice cost so many lives. They're holed up in his church, but she's determined to keep looking for Daryl and her family. So day after day she goes out searching and day after day she finds new people - some injured, some just wandering lost in the woods, most having just given up on themselves and this world. She takes them in, cares for them, helps prop them up while they heal and take back their lives. She gives them hope and faith and a push towards a future. They rally around her and she becomes their impromptu leader, of sorts. Not because she's the most badass zombie slayer of all time, but because she helps people slay their own demons, because she still knows how to smile and make others smile. That's the Beth Greene I want Team Boxcar to find in Season 5. That's the new sheriff I want to see. That's the Beth Greene that Daryl Dixon has given himself over to (shut up, he totally has). And that's the Beth Greene that will be the last Greene standing. You mark my words.


	6. Drabble 4

"What happened out there? Between you two?" Maggie asked. The two sisters were keeping watch as the others slept.

"Nothing." Beth toyed with the bracelets on her left wrist.

"Bethy, that man moved heaven and hell to find you again. That's not nothing." Maggie leaned her shoulder against Beth's as an offer of comfort and openness.

Beth's eyes glanced quickly to Maggie's and then settled back down to her wrist. "I don't know, Maggie. At first, I hated him. He was an ass. But then…," her voice trailed off into the night.

"Then what?"

Beth let out a sigh, "But then we got drunk on moonshine and yelled out our feelings. And then we continued getting drunk on moonshine and talked about a lot of things."

Beth could feel her sister's eyes grow wide and her face line with concern. "You did what?"

"I just needed to do something, you know? To feel alive. To feel normal. To feel closer to Daddy in this really messed up way, I guess." She shrugged her shoulders and looked at her sister. "It sounds crazy, I know that."

"No, it doesn't. I've done a hell of a lot worse." Maggie smiled at her sister and silently encouraged her to keep talking.

"He told me things about his past. About who he was before all this. I could see how much he still held on to those things, how much they still weighed him down. So, we burned it down." Beth laid her head on her sister's shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Burned it down?" Maggie wasn't sure if Beth meant literally or metaphorically.

"Yeah. The cabin. He said his father had one just like it. That he'd grown up in a dirty place just like it. So we burned it down. Poured the moonshine all over the place and lit it on fire. Then we had to run like hell cause the blaze attracted dozens of walkers." Her voice was taking on the dreamlike quality of sleep.

"And that's all that happened? Nothing else, nothing a bit more…intimate?" Maggie didn't want to say the wrong thing or spook her sister, but she needed to know.

"What? Are you asking if I had sex with Daryl Dixon?" Beth was fully awake now, staring at her sister in wonderment.

"No! No. I just don't know how burning down an old cabin translates into Daryl feeling so strongly for you, that's all." Maggie searched Beth's eyes, trying to find something hidden in them.

"He just feels guilty." Maggie could see those words hurt Beth.

"Maybe. I mean, he did, does feel guilty, but there's more to it than that. What happened next?" She pulled Beth closer and held her like they'd done on so many nights when Maggie had come home from college full of stories whispered in the dark so their parents couldn't hear.

"He was different. Nicer. Sweet, almost. And he was teaching me to track and hunt and use his crossbow. Sometimes he'd get impatient or grumpy, but mostly, he was just quiet and nice. He's real shy most of the time. And he didn't mind when I cried or talked about Daddy. He'd just listen."

"He's a good man." Maggie had always known that.

"I hurt my ankle in an animal trap so we holed up in this funeral home for a couple of days. It was clean and all boarded up. There was a dog that wouldn't come inside. And a piano and food - peanut butter and jelly. Soda. Pigs feet. Daryl called it a white trash brunch. Right before the walkers overran the place, he even suggested that we stay there a while. Me and him. Wait for whoever was living there to come back. You know, make it work. I think he saw how happy I was with four walls and a roof over my head." A longing crept into Beth's voice.

"And then the walkers just attacked without warning? How'd they get inside?" Maggie had been unclear on this point since Daryl had first told her the story weeks ago.

"We were having supper in the kitchen. It was dark outside and inside, too. Just a few lit candles. I was writing a thank you note to whoever's food we were stealing. That's when Daryl suggested that we stick around there for a few days. Try to make it work with the people who were clearly living there - even if they were nuts." Beth smiled at the memory. "I asked him what had changed his mind because he'd said earlier that he thought all the good people didn't survive. And he brushed me off, at first. Clammed up and wouldn't answer. So I just kept asking." Beth grew quiet.

"Of course you did. Did he ever answer?" Maggie was pretty sure she already knew the answer, but now she pushed Beth like Beth had pushed him.

"He just got this really serious look on his face. And when his eyes met mine, something felt different. I guess he meant I'd changed his mind, but it felt heavier than that. Like he was trying to tell me something else, something more important. It made me nervous, him looking at me like that." Maggie could hear the anxiety in Beth's voice.

"That's when the walkers attacked?" Maggie kept pushing her forward.

"The dog barked and our canned food alarms went off. Daryl got up and just answered the door without looking, thinking it was just the dog from earlier. But it wasn't."

"What do you think would have happened if that dog hadn't barked? If y'all had remained in that kitchen uninterrupted?" Maggie questioned, squeezing her sister a little tighter at the thought of all those walkers surrounding Beth.

"I don't know. Probably nothing. We'd have just cleaned up and gone to sleep. Same as usual. Why?" Beth pulled away from Maggie's arms and looked at her sister.

"Well, in love stories and rom coms that's when the two people always kissed for the first time. Or almost kissed before being rudely interrupted by some outside force." Maggie grinned at her. Beth just stared back, blinking in disbelief.

"You think he wanted to kiss me? Me? I annoy the crap out of him." But even Beth wasn't so sure that was the whole truth.

"I think we'll never know, sadly. Cause this sure as hell ain't no damn romance novel kind of life anymore. But would you have kissed him back if he had?" She brushed the loose strands of Beth's hair behind her ear.

Beth looked down at her fingers as she nervously pushed at her cuticles. Maggie noticed the blush creep from her temples down through the apples of her cheeks. "It's…it's not the worst idea, maybe." Her voice was barely a whisper. And then her eyes darted up to Maggie's, panic settling in. "Oh my God, Maggie. Do I want Daryl Dixon to kiss me?"

And Maggie burst out laughing. And then Beth followed suit. And they laughed until they cried. Until they woke more than one of the sleeping bodies scattered around the fire.

"Might as well be a goddamn slumber party." Abraham grumbled as he got up to take a piss.

The sisters calmed down as the man in question approached them. It was his turn to take watch. "What's so damn funny?" Daryl yawned, scratching the back of his neck. Maggie and Beth collapsed into giggles again.

"Oh, go on you two before you wake up the baby." Daryl chastised, grabbing his crossbow and slipping it across his shoulders. He helped both girls to their feet and shooed them on their way.

Beth turned around to face him before joining her sister back by the fire and their sleeping bags, "Night, Dixon."

"Sweet dreams, Greene." And then she smiled and he smiled. And seeing them, Maggie smiled, too.


	7. Drabble 5

As the others made camp, Daryl set up shop on the outskirts of everyone to take first watch. Settling in against a giant oak tree, his mind wandered through the events of the past few weeks. The stress and the fear and the exhaustion and the loss. It weighed heavily on everyone. But they'd had their good moments as well. Moments of reunion and family and a quiet happiness as they settled into the groove of the road.

He heard her before he saw her. "Hey Daryl? Can I keep watch with you?" She plopped down next to him without waiting for an answer. So he didn't offer one.

"You should sleep. We've got a long way to go tomorrow." He could hear the others whispering throughout the camp. No one seemed to be getting much rest. Even Judith still whimpered in Rick's arms.

"I will. I just thought we could talk first." Beth hugged her knees to her chest and leaned her head back against the tree.

"Talk about what?" Daryl busied himself with drawing lines in the dirt with one of his four remaining arrows.

"Anything. Just…we haven't really talked much since we've all been back together. I feel like you've been avoiding me. Like maybe you're mad at me or something?" Beth turned her head towards his. Daryl could feel her eyes on him.

"I ain't mad. Just focused on getting everyone wherever the hell it is we're going. And making sure we get there alive. Ain't much time for anything else." His voice was gruff and his tone short.

"So it's just going to be like that, huh? Like nothing we went through together matters? Like back at the prison where I was nothing to you but the pretty blonde girl who kept Judith fed and diapered?" Her voice was laced with venom.

Daryl sighed. "This ain't the Daryl and Beth show anymore, Greene. What do you want from me?"

"Apparently nothing you're will to give." She shot to her feet, angrily and started towards the camp, but Daryl's hand grabbed her wrist before she could get very far.

"Thought you were going to keep watch with me?" His demeanor had softened, and he tried desperately to communicate things to her that he was too afraid to say out loud.

"That's before you reverted back to being Dixon the jackass." But she didn't walk away. Instead, she kneeled down beside him, placing her hands on his knees. "I liked the way you looked at me before when it was just the two of us. Like you respected me. Like I meant something to you." Her stare was intense and searching and challenging. There was also a spark of something else - something like a dare.

Despite how unnerved he felt, Daryl couldn't look away from her. "Ain't none of that changed, Greene." For now, that was as much as he could offer her. For now, that was as much as he could push through the one million and five reasons in his mind why he should be pushing her away.

"Well, then, grow a pair and act like it." With those final words, she stalked off to her sleeping bag next to Maggie's and buried herself inside it. That girl was going to be the death of him, for sure.


	8. Drabble 6

I know I keep writing this scene over and over again, so please forgive me. I'm just trying to find some small kernel of truth in what I think is going to happen. I've come close, but not quite there yet.

Carol and Tyreese took first watch. The group had found another abandoned quarry. The memories hung palpably in the air. Even those that hadn't been there then knew the stories, knew the loss. Daryl leaned against the side of the jeep they'd found and picked his fingernails with his knife. His thoughts drifted to Merle, to meeting Rick that first time, to Dale and Amy and Jim and Jacqui. To Lori and T-Dog. His eyes grew heavy and his head drooped. He hadn't slept good in days.

A few minutes later - or hours, who knew - he felt someone slip the knife from his hand and lay it aside. He squinted his eyes and saw her. She was busy fussing with a blanket. He kept acting like he was asleep so he could watch her unnoticed. She got the blanket unfolded and crouched down between his legs, pushing her back up against his chest and snuggling in. His body tensed. She wrapped the blanket around both of them and curled herself around him. She intended to stay.

"This okay?" Of course she knew he wasn't asleep.

He didn't respond one way or another. He needed to. Needed her to go back to her sister or Judith or Carol or just anyone else. But as he felt her relax and her breath soften and slow, he didn't tell her that. But he promised himself it'd only be for this one night. That in the morning he'd set things straight. Because without distance and boundaries and rules, he'd fall into something that he was no good for. Because he was no good for. He knew that; she knew that; the others knew that.

But he'd allow himself this one night. This one cold, winter night with her warm body pressed against him. Her hair brushing the skin of his neck as she inhaled and exhaled. The tiny little snores that quirked his lips into a small smile. The way her hand sat so sure, so unafraid on his chest. He'd spend one good, long night breathing her in and then he'd tell her. In the morning. When the light came and exposed them - exposed him. When he could no longer pretend. When hiding beneath the light of a half-full moon was no longer an option.


	9. Reunion

He'd been in the woods for two hours, probably. Chasing after that damn rabbit. But food was hard to come by as the months grew colder. And daylight was a fleeting thing. So he'd been bound and determined to bring back that meager piece of meat to the group. Something to keep them going another day as they pushed north.

Dusk played tricks with the light as he slung the dead animal over his shoulder. Shadows seemed to move and his eyes darted all around him, his ears on high alert. Bats flew overhead. The flutter of their wings echoed off the trees. Something in his gut told him he needed to get back to the others sooner rather than later. So he started running towards the highway.

He hit pavement just as the sun settled beneath the horizon. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the new darkness. Bodies moved around the campfire which seemed normal, but then he heard the crying. He rushed forward immediately feeling the guilt set in as he chastised himself for staying gone too long.

And that's when he saw her blonde hair. Still in its ponytail. Still with that silly braid.

He froze. No one had spotted him yet. They were too busy squeezing her to death. Crying together and holding on, too caught up in the moment to ask questions. Maggie hugged her sister and you could see how difficult it would be for her to let go now. But her eyes caught his and she smiled and stepped back. The others had noticed him too so they also pushed back.

He stepped forward slowly, at first, but then he was just there. His hands went to her hips and hovered for just a second before they gently landed on her sides. He moved his body against hers so he could feel her, know that she was truly there. That this was real and not just the dream he couldn't shake from his troubled sleep night after night. His eyes closed and he buried his nose in the blanket of her hair. And as his hands snaked their way from her sides to fully encase her in his arms, he took a breath so deep that he felt some part of her crawl inside him and curl up down in the hollows of his belly to stay forever.

Her hands covered his and he felt her warm tears land on the skin of his arms. She leaned back into his embrace and sighed and relaxed and let everything go. "I told you you'd miss me, Daryl Dixon." He could hear the smile in her voice.


	10. A Moment with Michonne

It felt like the old days when the two of them were knee-deep in their search for The Governor. Just the two of them scouring the countryside - angry, vengeful. Feeling the need to protect their people. Feeling like they'd let their people down - Merle, Andrea. Before he'd given up and convinced her to give up, too. Before The Governor had come and ruined all the good they'd found.

Daryl led the way as they leisurely strolled through the dead foliage. Their weapons were tucked away, but their senses were still sharp as ever. The cold had held the dead at bay for the most part. And all they were really doing this afternoon was scouting the perimeter of their camp so they could settle in for a few days - rest and heal.

Michonne caught up and side-eyed him knowingly, a small, cheeky grin lighting her face. Daryl could feel her gaze but left it unacknowledged.

"So, Dixon. Anything new with you these days?" She was still smiling wider than she had any right to.

Daryl kept walking. "I smell better today than I did yesterday." They'd all bathed in a nearby river that morning.

"Getting rid of those fleas is important. But I was thinking more along the lines of pretty little blonde girls. I never pictured blondes being your thing." Michonne nudged him with her elbow.

"Yeah, what did you picture being my thing?" He didn't seem at all concerned about her line of questioning. Michonne thought maybe she had things wrong.

"You know, the biker girl type. Tattoos and cigarettes and leather. Know their way around a bedroom. Something the opposite of farmer's daughter." She watched him closely for his reaction. He just grunted and moved on.

"She make you happy?" If he didn't answer her now, she'd shut up, but she genuinely just wanted to know if the man was happy.

"There ain't nothing going on between me and Beth. And you're right, I ain't never had a need for girls like her. Now let's get this done and get back." Michonne watched him push through the brush and felt like shit. Sometimes she forgot how deeply damaged Daryl was emotionally. How fucked up his sense of self-worth could be. And she'd pushed those buttons without meaning to.

Michonne found him angrily stomping through the woods a few moments later. She fell in line beside him. "Don't let your own bullshit get in the way, Dixon. She cares for you. That's more than most people get these days."

"Maybe you should listen to your own advice." He glanced quickly at her but without malice.

Her eyes grew closer in confusion as she returned his look. "How so?"

"Just...you and Rick seem mighty friendly these days." Now, he was the one tossing a smirk at her. She just glared back at him with that look she got when she was daring you to say one more wayward word.

They continued on in silence for a long time completing their mission and finding nothing of concern. They downed two walkers and headed back towards the others as the sun began lowering on the horizon. When they reached camp, they were immediately greeted by a smiling Rick and Beth with baby Judith in her arms. Rick pulled Michonne in one direction to discuss their scouting and tomorrow's plans, while Beth pulled Daryl closer to the fire and a supper bowl she'd kept warm for him. Daryl caught Michonne's eye, a sheepish look on his face. But she shrugged her shoulders and smiled. And so he shrugged and smiled in return. Because things really could be a hell of a lot worse.


	11. The Pew

The day had been long and cold. With night setting in, they'd needed to find a place to camp for the night. Somewhere covered. Somewhere that provided at least the semblance of warmth. A church a couple miles off the highway had been their best option so they'd spent hours clearing the outer perimeter and interior of dozens of walkers. And now they were bone tired. Ready to collapse and sleep for days. But that wasn't allowed.

Beth sat in a pew in the back, stitching some of Judith's clothes that had gotten holes somehow or other out on the road. She had briefly even considered adding additional layers as insulation, but there wasn't enough material for that. So she did the best she could. She heard the heavy tread of his boots as he approached.

"Hey." He sat down a foot or so away from her.

"Hey, yourself." She smiled but didn't look up from her sewing.

"You did good today." His fingers chipped away at a scratch in the wooden bench.

She finished her final stitch and glanced at him. "Thanks. That one almost got me though. Glad you got there in time."

He nodded. "That's what we do."

Beth folded the jumper and laid it aside. For a moment, she just looked at him, examining his face – the coarse, graying facial hair; the wind-chapped skin; the crow's feet lining his eyes. His hair was so long now. Out of control, really. Without thinking, she reached up and pushed it out of his eyes. "You need a haircut."

He shrugged his shoulders and kept picking at the scarred pew. Neither spoke for several seconds. Both content to just sit and be for a while. Happy to be so close after being so far apart.

"Can I ask you something?" Beth scooted a little closer to him. Not touching him, exactly, but close enough to feel him on her.

"Can't promise I'll have an answer." His eyes darted to hers, briefly.

She thought a minute about what she wanted to say before beginning. "Back at the funeral home, you meant I had changed your mind, right? About there still being good people?"

From the look on his face, he had clearly not expected that question. She could see the gears in his head turning, could see his eyes searching the empty corners of the church for an answer.

He nervously cleared his throat, "Yeah." His eyes focused on the scratch he kept digging at, deeper and deeper.

"I just wondered…I mean…is that all you meant? Cause it kind of felt like maybe something else." Shyly, but with a decided determination, she slowly shifted her fingers to where his worked the groove with his nubby, chewed fingernails and just barely touched the tips of his fingers with hers. His stiffened and stop moving.

"Something else like what?" His voice was low and edged with a barely discernable tremor.

Her fingers finished snaking between his and she pulled his hand into her lap. And then she took a deep breath, gathered all the courage she could find, and leaned towards him. Instinctually, he pulled back, but she tightened her grip on his hand and paused, waiting for him to relax. And when he took that first shaky breath, she pushed forward and lightly pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth.

She pulled back slightly and waited for his eyes to find hers. It didn't take long. And then she answered his question. "Something else like that."

He swallowed hard. And he tried to find the words, he did. They were there somewhere, he knew. And maybe one day he'd finally get them out. But for now, he just gently rubbed his thumb across the soft skin of her hand and hoped she could hear him through his silence.


End file.
